


Bleeding The Need To Feel Worthy

by AuroraKant



Series: Whumptober2020 [29]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Aftermath of TBI, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Gun Violence, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt/Comfort, Idiot Brothers Being Idiot Brothers, Protective Tim Drake, Reconciliation, Sometimes Nothing Brings Family Together Like A Near Death Experience, gun shot wound, platonic i love yous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27282316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraKant/pseuds/AuroraKant
Summary: But with Bruce reinstated as Batman, Damian firmly by his side –don’t think about it, Grayson– Dick had taken the chance to claim Tim as his patrol buddy.Maybe this could be the first step in the right direction. They needed something to help them heal – and, hey, their family had always been partially inclined towards violence and darkness as a coping and bonding mechanism.Or: Dick and Tim patrol together for the first time in over a year. Of course, something has to go wrong. Mix in a secret head injury, and a bunch of gangsters, and you have the perfect recipe for disaster.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Dick Grayson
Series: Whumptober2020 [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948651
Comments: 18
Kudos: 256
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Bleeding The Need To Feel Worthy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Niullum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niullum/gifts).



> Hello!!  
> And a wonderful second-to-last day of whumptober! I hope you are ready!  
> And I hope the wonderful Cat is going to enjoy this!!! <3<3<3  
> (special shout out to Iris for helping me beta this fic :D)
> 
> Comments, Kudos and Bookmarks make this author very, VERY happy! <3<3

It was a standard patrol – only that it wasn’t.

It was the first time Dick and Tim had patrolled together since their falling out over a year ago. Maybe Dick had chosen this rather simple route because of that, or maybe he had decided to take the Diamond District with Red Robin because he was still recovering from Dr. Hurt and his last mission as the official Batman.

Dick wanted… he needed them to get along. He missed his little brother. He missed Tim’s corny jokes, and his alternative taste in music. He missed the presence of the lanky teenager – almost a man now – next to him during movie nights, loudly eating salted popcorn.

Call him a dreamer, but Dick just wanted them to be a family again.

Well, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t been the one to destroy every chance at being a family they had. Dick had been the one to push Tim away. He had been the one to tell Tim that Bruce was dead. Yeah, and now that the man in question was back, Dick was constantly being reminded of the fact that he had been wrong.

Bruce could have been saved quicker if Dick had only believed in his brother. Bruce would have been returned to his family, Tim would have never fought Ra’s al Ghul, if Dick had only listened to him.

(What made the guilt even worse was the fact that Dick… he had missed Bruce with all his heart and yet it hadn’t only been glee he had felt when his dad had returned from the timestream. There was a reason that people died, and Dick had slowly learned how to deal with that.)

But with Bruce reinstated as Batman, Damian firmly by his side – _don’t think about it, Grayson_ – Dick had taken the chance to claim Tim as his patrol buddy.

Maybe this could be the first step in the right direction. They needed something to help them heal – and, hey, their family had always been partially inclined towards violence and darkness as a coping and bonding mechanism.

Next to him, Tim was silent, the boy staring across the street and into the dark night sky. His hair had grown longer in his time away, Dick noticed, and his heart twanged when he suppressed his impulse to make a joke about past fashion crimes.

They weren’t on a casual joke level yet, and Dick didn’t want to make Tim uncomfortable. It had been going relatively good so far. Tim was quiet, but not dangerously so, and during a fight earlier in the night, Dick might even have seen a hint of a smile decorating Tim’s lips.

Sometimes… call him a dreamer, but sometimes Dick wished everyone could just be okay, even without him being there to protect them. Dick wanted to know that Tim could smile again, but he was so tired from all these months as Batman, he wasn’t sure he would be able to be there for every step along the way. And how was their relationship supposed to heal if Dick felt like falling apart himself?

Well, that seemed like a Tomorrow Dick problem.

Right now, Dick could do his best to engage with Tim, to make him feel welcome. And as soon as the first cracks started to scab over… maybe Dick would be allowed to take a step back? He just had to reach an equilibrium with his little brother first. He just had to cross that very first bridge between them – it just sucked that Dick also had to be the one to build it.

As soon as he was done with that… he would have to take care of Damian and the hurt swimming in his boy’s eyes. And Cass and their falling out. Steph and the words he had said behind her back. Jason and… the whole clusterfuck that was Arkham.

Dick would have to deal with Bruce as well, and the hurt that had festered between them, and the grief Dick suddenly felt, now that he could look his dad in the face again.

But all of these things were problems for Tomorrow Dick, the anxiety in his stomach spiking by the mere thought of having to deal with all of that. Tomorrow Dick would hate him, but Present Dick was just so tired.

So, instead of letting his thoughts linger on all his misgivings, Dick focused back on patrol. This was what he was supposed to do anyway. Getting distracted while on patrol was a rookie mistake, and one Dick couldn’t afford himself to make so soon after getting shot in the head.

Alfred only let him leave the Cave because Dick promised him to be cautious.

“Movement on 4th Avenue Corner Picasso Street. It looks like the Malboro Gang. Five people, no hostages. Probably armed.”

Tim’s voice was clear cut, and Dick followed Tim’s outstretched arm with his eyes, until he could spot the moving gang members as well. Tim’s assessment seemed accurate. The Malboro Gang was a nuisance on the grand scale of Gotham crime. The group focused on exploitation and robbery, and nobody had died during their countless heists yet – Bruce was more than happy to let the police handle this particular case.

But with five members of the gang presenting themselves like this to Dick and Tim during patrol? That was a gift horse not even Bruce could deny. Also, Dick had a special kind of hatred regarding asshats making their money through exploitation.

“You take the left flank; I will move in from the east. They will most likely go through the alley behind the ESPRIT store. Go.” Dick didn’t need to say it twice, Red Robin jumping straight into action.

While none of his brothers – or his sister – had Dick’s innate grace when it came to acrobatics, he still felt familial pride when he saw one of them use one of the moves he had taught them. He was giving them a piece of Grayson family history, every time he showed them a twist Dick himself had first learned on top of a trapeze in the big top. 

But now was not the time to linger on the fact that Tim had just used a very particular flip while moving over the rooftops – Dick would have to move as well.

The Diamond District was quiet at this time of the night. It was the easy route, and Dick was honestly surprised that they had managed to find such a big fish through pure circumstance. Normally, the most you got during a Diamond District patrol was a small-scale robbery, or some asshole thinking he could assault passersby.

That was why this was the route for Bats recovering from injury.

Well, today Dick and Tim had managed to get a jackpot. And to be honest? Dick was kind of glad they did. The silence between them might not be hostile, but it was still anything but comfortable. Bruising their knuckles would do them some good.

The soles of his feet hit the gravel on top of the ESPRIT store, just as the five gang members made their way into the alley. Dick spotted Tim directly across from him, squatting behind a vent. Both of them were silent as they edged towards the sides of their respective roofs that faced the alley.

They watched as the gang members went deeper inside the dark passage, their individuality bleeding away in the night. Soon only five vaguely human shaped shadows were left, and Dick knew they would have to act soon.

Their masks might enhance night vision, but even with them firmly covering their eyes, Dick didn’t feel at ease engaging in a battle in complete darkness. So, with a twist of his finger, Dick signaled Tim to move.

It was a simple sign, one that Bruce had taught every Robin during their first month of training – Dick had done the same when he’d trained Damian.

Tim would always stay Robin at heart, and Dick couldn’t help himself – he smiled, when he saw Tim react immediately, following the command like he might have done once upon a time when he still flew by Batman’s side.

Together they jumped on top of the goons. Their surprised yells made glee and adrenaline curse through Dick’s veins. Especially since there was no cape trailing behind him… he was just Nightwing tonight, and, by God, Dick had missed that. He had missed the black and blue spandex and he had missed the lack of cape.

He had missed his escrima as well, he thought, as he menacingly twirled them in the face of danger.

The gang members recovered quickly, a Bat or two dropping from the sky not the rarest occurrence, and Dick could see Red Robin ready his Bo-staff.

There was no one counting them in, no “ready!” getting yelled, but suddenly all of them were engaged in fight. Yes, Tim’s assessment had been right: The gang members had weapons. Dick’s escrima connected with the baseball bat of a woman, his leg reflexively kicking out towards her knee. She sidestepped his attack, wrestling her weapon away from him, before she swung again. This time it was Dick who had to block.

They were good. Better than one might expect of a gang that mostly engaged in non-violent crime.

And yet… Dick hated close quarter fighting, and the moment the woman managed to hit his side with the bat, he knew that it would have been more intelligent to wait for Red Robin to take the first wave of attackers before jumping in. But just because that would have been the logical choice, the one that would have given him an advantage in the fight, didn’t mean that it had been a choice Dick would have been comfortable with.

He… he didn’t want to send Tim in alone, and now he was paying the price for that insolence.

Dick parried another hit, before dancing out of the reach of the baseball bat. He had enough of that particular piece of wood approximately twelve years ago. It was time he did something.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dick saw Tim take down one of the goons with an expertly performed twist, and pride welled up inside his chest. Tim was a hero in his own right… Dick had made many mistakes back then, when they had fought in the Cave, but maybe not everything was bad… maybe some good things had come from it as well.

Dick at least dared to hope.

He flipped over the head of the crazy baseball woman, using her short confusion to choke her out from behind. There were five assailants in this alley, and Dick was only completely aware of the position of two of them. That wasn’t good.

That was something Batman would never allow.

Dick twisted around before the back of a gun could connect with his head. He turned and the sight that greeted him was chilling:

While Dick and Tim had been busy taking down two of the five members – and how dumb was that! A rookie mistake! – the other three members had run for safety. Or, well… maybe not safety, but rather, a safe distance.

Because now there were three guns pointed at them, and no way out of this alley that wouldn’t end with at least one of them being riddled with holes.

Or at least, that would have been the case if they were normal people.

They were Bats, however.

They didn’t even have to communicate before Dick pulled himself up on a fire escape to his right, and Tim started running, ready to jump up in a flying roll at a moment’s notice. It only took the goons a second to recover from their shock at the Bats moving this swiftly, but it was enough for Nightwing and Red Robin.

They might have made a few mistakes tonight, and there sure as hell would be a lot of yelling should they make it back to the Cave, but for now they flew in tandem. Their fists and kicks and twists… they just worked. Tim acted first, pushing the second woman of the group down on to floor, using the force of his flying roll. Dick followed suit, not one to be outmaneuvered, and soon he was choking the man closest to the fire escape. It was probably the same guy that had had hit Dick earlier. It was fun making his fist connect with the dude’s face. 

It was exhilarating, until it was not.

Dick felt the moment things started to go really wrong. He was just about to jump on top of the last person standing, Tim more than gleefully restraining the woman on his side of the alley, when his muscles locked. And spasmed.

No.

Not now.

Not right now.

Please, no.

But Dick had little choice regarding this, and in the single second it took him to regain control over his body back… the gang member in front of him reacted. He turned around, the barrel of his gun only two or three feet away from Dick’s upper body and fired.

The bang was deafening and for a moment the world was completely still.

Gunpowder was dancing through the air, the moon breaking through the clouds only to illuminate this… Dick could feel himself sway, the feeling far away and immediate at the same time. His eyes were fixated on the face in front of him, and each little detail burned itself into his memory. The stubble on the man’s face, the utter look of horror and shock.

For a short moment this face was all that existed. And then another sound reached Dick:

“NIGHTWING!”

And with the panicked scream of his brother, the fire in his gut consumed him.

He couldn’t have been unconscious for more than a second or two, because not much seemed to have changed when Dick blinked his eyes open again. He couldn’t see the sky above the alley anymore, but that was probably due to Tim filling out his entire field of vision.

And Tim…

The pain came for him like a sledgehammer, his body screaming in agony with every strenuous beat of his heart. Tim was pushing… Why was Tim pushing on his stomach? Why… Why did it hurt so bad?

Tim must have finally noticed Dick’s confusion – or maybe he just saw that Dick had blinked his eyes open – because he stopped in his efforts to squeeze the life out of Dick at least somewhat:

“Thank god… you are awake…”

“Wha-?”

It hurt to speak, something wet and hot bubbling in the back of his throat. Dick swallowed down the urge to cough, his brain scrambling for clues. What was going on? Why… It was blood he tasted on the back of his tongue, and not even his confused mind could deny that that was bad.

“You got shot, you idiot. In the stomach, no less. You got shot and now you’re dying and it will all be your damn fault…”

Tim was crying.

Dick didn’t like it when Tim was crying, but his attempt to wipe away the tears leaking out of Red Robin’s mask was stopped. Tim’s gloves were stained red, when they pushed Dick’s hand away, and something told Dick that it was his own blood that was so liberally decorating Tim.

Oh.

Maybe Tim wasn’t trying to squeeze him empty like a toothpaste tube… maybe Tim was trying to coax his body into letting his blood stay on the inside.

“Not my fault…”

It was hard to draw in a deep breath, with his back lying flat on the rough and dirty floor of an alley, and his stomach filling up with blood, but at least Dick could still breathe. So… probably not a collapsed lung, but intense damage to other internal organs.

Fuck.

He didn’t need his maximum brain power to understand that.

“Yes! You… You just stopped! In the middle of an attack! You just… for a moment you just stopped and then he shot you and now… and now you are here!”

Tim’s words were frantic, but his hands were calm as he continued to press the cloth onto the hole in Dick’s torso. It hurt. It hurt so bad. But as long as Dick could feel the pain, the agony… the fire of acids eating up his insides… at least he was still alive.

He didn’t want to die. Especially not with Tim crying over his corpse.

“Muscle sp-spasm…”

“You are Nightwing! You don’t get muscle spasms!”

Tim looked so desperate, and Dick only wanted to ease that pain away. His death would hurt the family. Especially with Bruce still missing… but no, Bruce had come back! Tim had brought Bruce back! Dick remembered that now… that was nice.

At least they would have a dad then… Damian needed a dad. Cass and Tim did as well.

But that wasn’t what Tim had asked about, right? There had been something else… yes! Dick remembered:

“B-Brain damage… got shot… in the brain… muscle spasm…”

“You have epilepsy, and nobody told me?”

“Hn… no… just… sometimes…”

It hurt to speak. Oh lord, it hurt so horribly to speak. But Tim needed an answer, he deserved one. And what was the worth of Dick’s discomfort if he was dying either way?

“Some-times muscles… lock up. Not… only… only Alf knows. He… he promised not to tell…”

There was disbelieve visible on Tim’s face, and Dick knew it was his fault his little brother looked as lost as he did just now. He didn’t want to unload any of this onto Tim’s shoulders. The boy had been through enough… he needed a warm hug and not another person dying in his arms.

But Dick also wasn’t dumb, even if concentrating was kind of hard right now… he knew that Tim wouldn’t leave him here.

“You… you got shot in the head, and you are suffering from… and you never told anyone? Dick, you idiot. Don’t do shit like that… I… Fuck!” Tim’s last explosion was accompanied by an increase of pressure on his stomach, and Dick couldn’t help himself, he coughed.

Blood was coating his tongue… it tasted like iron and death and Dick wanted to gag. Maybe he did. Coughing hurt, and for a few precious moments, the world turned into a blurry mess, everything just bleeding together.

“I’m sorry… no, come back, Dick! I am not done with you! You can’t die now!”

Tim’s frantic exclamations were the first thing Dick’s tired brain registered again, and it took him a minute or two to recognize Tim in the swirls of darkness dancing through his field of vision. He looked… his brother looked… scared. Dick didn’t like it.

“I’m not…”

“But you are! You are bleeding out! And Batman is still five minutes away! And I can’t do anything!”

“Sorry…”

It was hard to see Tim cry like this. It was hard to know that his little brother was sad like this. The rest of the family would be sad as well… at least Dick hoped they could forgive him his mistakes even in death… Would Damian finally understand why Dick had persisted on Bruce patrolling with Robin? Would Steph forgive him his angry words, and would Cass remember him fondly?

Would Tim forgive him?

Dick didn’t want to die, and leave hurt behind… he didn’t want to die only for his family to hate him for dying, as well as being a bad brother…

“I’m so sorry… Timmy… I shouldn’t… I… I am so sorry…”

For a moment Tim looked confused, and then understanding bloomed in his expression. His voice was soft, and Dick could hear the tears in it:

“No… Dick… I… I was mad. Maybe I am still mad. But… we fight. And we hurt each other… hell, if I only loved people who never hurt me, I would be fucking alone. And so would you. We are all insensitive bitches sometimes… but that… that doesn’t mean we don’t love each other…”

“Sorry, Timmers… I am so sorry… Love you… love all of you… I am… sorry…”

Now Dick was the one crying, guilt bleeding out of him like blood. He had carried so much guilt with him this past year… his mistakes with Tim, with Damian, with Cass, with Steph, Jason… his guilt because he wasn’t as happy about Bruce’s return as he should be.

He had gotten his dad back, and all Dick had been able to think about was the fact that Dick had finally started to heal – he had finally overcome his grief and suddenly Bruce was back. It had hurt – and it was a hurt that only belonged to him.

And now… now he would die without ever having begged for forgiveness.

He… his last chance to make anything right was with Tim. Tim, who was cradling him and crying. Tim, whom he had hurt.

“So sorry… im so sorry---"

"STOP! Dick… no, if you are sorry for Robin, then I am sorry for not answering your calls! If you are sorry for not believing, then I am sorry for being a little bitch… I… none of us perfect. I am… I am sorry that I gave you the feeling that you had to be.”

“Wha…?”

“Don’t think I’m blind… I… I am mad, yes, and I am not going to apologize for my feelings, but… Dick, we love you. All of us… we love you so much… and… and… somehow you think you are only worthy of that love if you are perfect. If… if you make no mistakes. Hell, you forgave Jason for killing people in your name… but I have seen your post it notes full of apologies directed at the Red Hood regarding your last fight… I…”

Tim seemed to be lost for words, and Dick could understand that. He was growing tired as well. His eyelids were so heavy, and the burning in his gut had finally died down… now he was just cold. It was uncomfortable – of course it was – but at least he wasn’t burning anymore. At least he was no longer in any pain.

He let his eyes fall closed, and it surprised him when a hand connected with his cheek, red streaks painting over his bloodless skin.

It was a battle to return Tim’s fiery gaze:

“Don’t you dare die now! Don’t you close your eyes and slip away before Bruce reaches us! I will hunt you if you do that! I will… I will make sure you get brought back just so I can scream at you! You are not allowed to die, Dick Grayson!”

“no… no… pit…”

“Fuck you, Dick. I won’t let you die before I didn’t have the chance to forgive you. I won’t let you die before we couldn’t hug it out in front of a fireplace with hot cocoa in our hands… not like this, I love you too much for that…”

“love you… too”

A sigh escaped Dick and the air tasted like death… it was a weird feeling, the blood coating his mouth and his teeth disgusting, but his body too weak to try and dispel it… Dick loved his family… but right now, he loved sleep more.

The darkness was calling for him, and Dick had been Batman for over a year… he returned home in the shadows he had borrowed.

Dick woke up again.

That was the first surprise.

The second surprise was the face that greeted him when he blinked his eyes open: Tim. His little brother sat next to what looked like a medical bed with a frown on his face and a book in his hand. Yeah… Tim had never particularly enjoyed fiction.

It took a moment for Tim to realize that Dick was awake, and when he did, he jumped up, pressing the button next to Dick’s bed. In all that time, Dick barely blinked. He was exhausted. Terribly so. There was a bone-deep ache deep inside of him and breathing kind of hurt.

Dick had the vague feeling that there was a reason for that. And for the oxygen mask. And the thousand other machines he seemed to be hooked to.

“Wha-?”

His throat burned, and Tim was quick to help him. An ice cube was pressed against his lips, and Dick gladly opened his mouth. It felt like heaven. The water coated his parched throat, and the cold soothed what little aches were present.

“Don’t speak. Or do much of anything, really. You are still in critical condition.”

Tim sounded… stern but also relieved. It was… It was a good look on his little brother.

“Hn…”

“Dick…”

“Wha.. ha-p-ed?”

And yes, it hurt to speak, but Dick was many things and compliable was not one of them. He needed to know. He needed to know why his brother was willing to sit by his bedside, and he needed to know how he had ended up in a normal hospital instead of the Cave.

“You… you got shot. You were critical when Bruce found us. The… the protocol got thrown overboard, you needed immediate help, so we changed your clothes, and drove you here. GSW to your stomach, intensive internal damage. But you’ll live… most likely.”

Dick sighed, tension easing out of his shoulders. Okay. It was bad. But… Dick had survived. Whatever had happened, his memories were still fuzzy at best. He would have to read the official records once he was released, get an idea of just what had transpired. It was protocol, after all…

But before Dick could contemplate his fate further, Tim spoke again:

“You… you almost died in my arms, Dick, and… not cool, Bro. I love you, but I did have to partake in brotherly revenge, so… don’t be too surprised when Bruce asks you about the details of your TBI. Or Jason. Or Steph…”

Tim spoke of brotherly revenge, but all Dick could see in his brother’s face was relief, and hope, and guilt and love. It was okay. Dick was sure it would be okay.

“Love you---”

“That’s what they all say, idiot.”

With that Tim stood up and Dick had to suppress his need to mewl for his brother to stay. He didn’t want to be alone… not while he was vulnerable like this, with a hole in his body, and drugs keeping him alive. But Tim left, and he turned around one last time once he reached the door:

“I will send Bruce in… he has been running holes in the ground… and… don’t die, okay?”

“Hn”

“Love you… bye!”


End file.
